


we pull our boots on with both hands

by likewinning



Series: little beasts [41]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Consensual Violence, Knifeplay, M/M, oh heyyyy no one here is a very nice person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 02:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4083439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kid's fucked <em>up</em>, but at least, Jason figures, he has company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we pull our boots on with both hands

The kid's good; almost _too_ good. Tim's this twig of a thing, five and a few inches, dark-haired and bright-eyed, and when Jason makes the mistake of calling him _Timmy_ he grabs Jason by the throat and shoves him up against the wall.

"Don't," Tim says, "Call me that."

He still winds up with Jason's dick in his mouth, but that happens later, after a job and half a dozen beers, and it turns out Tim likes being choked just as much as he likes choking people.

Jason doesn't know where Bruce found Tim. He stopped questioning after the last one, long blonde hair and a smile like honey from killer bees. She's carving out her own corner of the world now, and Jason misses her.

He's supposed to keep an eye on Tim. Show him the ropes, whatever the hell that means in their line of work. Mostly he shows Tim how to get blood out of leather seats, how to clean their rifles. Mostly he learns that Tim is much more interested in getting right up close, little bruiser that he is, using knives where a gun would do just fine.

Kid's fucked _up_ , but at least, Jason figures, he has company.

*

Tim's straddling him, both of them naked on some motel bed while Tim carves into his arm with a knife. Jason's so hard from it he can barely see, nearly loses his senses just watching Tim carve out patterns and curlicues, watching Tim lick the blood from his knife and leave his lips stained red.

But then, maybe Jason lost his senses a long time ago.

Tim's hard; Jason can see the precome on his dick, and any minute now Jason's going to flip Tim around, grab him and fuck him until he actually makes some _noise_.

Jason used to think Bruce was too quiet. Used to do everything he could to make Bruce say his name, to tell him how _good_ he was –

He had no fucking clue, back then, what silence really sounds like.

Tim seems to like to listen to him, though. He'll let Jason ramble on for ages when they fuck, let him say the filthiest things and then usually let him _do_ them, too.

They just finished up a job. Bruce isn't supposed to know that they're both working it – it's supposed to just be _Tim_ \- but Tim didn't complain when Jason slid up behind him in line at a coffee shop, just ordered a triple espresso and said, "Don't expect me to share the money with you."

"Never that," Jason said, but he dragged Tim into the bathroom, dropped down to his knees and fucked Tim with his fingers while he blew him. Tim bit his own knuckles until they bled, and Jason zipped him back up and sucked his fingers into his mouth.

So maybe he's a little gone for the kid. It's not like their line of work affords them much time for actual _dating_ ; they're in different cities all the time, under different names.

Jason's just keeping things in the family, like he always has.

Tim tosses his knife aside, and Jason grabs him by the hips, flips him around and sticks two lubed-up fingers inside of him. He's always so tight, no matter how many times they do this, and Jason can't get enough.

"You ready for me, baby?" Jason asks, and Tim pushes back against him, but grunts out, "Call me that again and you won't fucking wake up."

"Mm," Jason says. He leans forward and kisses Tim's shoulder, where he's left a few marks of his own. "Sure I won't."

"I mean it, Jason, I'm not your fucking – oh, god, _there_ ," he says, because Jason crooks his fingers just right, and Tim's pretty little mouth curses up a storm trying to get Jason closer, deeper.

The kid's strong, but Jason's stronger, and he won't get anywhere without Jason letting him. "Ask," Jason says.

"Fuck you," Tim spits out.

"If you're lucky, sometime maybe," Jason says. He pulls out almost all the way, and Tim digs his hands into the sheets. "Tell me you want it."

Tim glares back at him, showing sharp teeth whose imprints Jason has in so many places. "I want it, Jason," he says. " _Fuck_ me."

Jason does. He grabs Tim by his skinny hips, runs his hand over the ¬bullet scar in his side, pushes inside of Tim hard, fast, and just takes him. Tim balances himself on one hand and wraps the other around his dick, but Jason shoves him away, says, "No."

"No?"

"You're gonna come just from my dick. I'm gonna fuck you 'til you're walking stupid."

"Oh, you mean like you?" Tim shoots back, and Jason laughs, hauls Tim up so he's sitting backward on his lap.

"Yeah," Jason says, licking the shell of Tim's ear, biting down on the lobe. "Like _me_. B used to fuck me just like this, you know."

" _God_ ," Tim says, and it's breathy and broken and everything Jason's been looking for. Tim scrapes Jason's thighs with his nails, pushes back against him, grinds on his dick while Jason shoves into him.

"Yeah," Jason says. He pinches Tim's nipples, wraps his hand loosely around his throat. "I was just some skinny little thing like you, and I could ride him for _days_."

"Fuck," Tim says. "Jason…"

"What's that, baby?"

Tim hisses, and Jason tightens his hand on his throat. "That's not," Tim grits out, "my _name_."

"No," Jason agrees. He fucks into Tim even harder, bounces him on his dick. "But it gets you a little harder every time I say it."

Tim digs his nails into Jason's skin, but he doesn't disagree – just pants and moans as Jason keeps fucking him, squeezes his throat, and then he lets out a gasp like a sob and comes all over his belly.

Jason swipes some come up and brings his fingers to his mouth, then throws Tim back down onto the bed and fucks him into the mattress until Tim says, "Do it, you fucking asshole," and Jason comes so _hard_.

He pulls out of Tim slowly, flips him over and crawls back between his legs. Tim stares up at him, and this is the only time, Jason thinks, he can even begin to figure out what Tim's thinking.

Right now, when he's fucked out and filled up, it's the only time when he doesn't look like he's calculating his next move, like he's cataloging every item in this room that could be used for a weapon.

He probably _is_ still doing that, but when Jason leans down and kisses him, sloppy and wet, he reaches to cup Jason's face in his hands and it's kind of sweet.

Then Tim rolls them over, grabs his knife from the edge of the bed and holds it to Jason's throat.

"Round two already?" Jason teases. "You _are_ good."

Tim snorts, presses the knife in closer. "Did you really fuck Bruce?"

"Yeah," Jason says. "Dick, too."

Tim's eyelids flicker, the barest of movements, and he says, "Tell me about it."

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